


Every Stumble And Each Misfire (CONTINUATION)

by KnifeGrian_ShishKebeb



Series: Sherlock is the smart one [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mycroft is a Bit Not Good, PTSD Sherlock, Protective Mycroft, Sherlock is a Mess, Sherlock was treated like euros, Sherlock's Past, Sherlock's Violin, Sherlock-centric, Suicidal Sherlock, Suicide Notes, Yes he was, he's aneroxic, sleep deprivation is a bitch, so much Sherlock angst, sue me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28831500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnifeGrian_ShishKebeb/pseuds/KnifeGrian_ShishKebeb
Summary: Sherlock is kidnapped and drugged. Nothing major, but in hospital, in front of John and Lestrade, Sherlock's undone mind begins to spill secrets Sherlock's kept buried for years'Please don't send me back, Mycroft,' Sherlock said, his voice barely a whisper. His eyes were focused on something over John's shoulder. 'I can't take it anymore.'A shiver ran down Lestrade's spine. The fear in Sherlock's eyes was so real, so raw. He was begging his brother.Okay, to make this clear, the author of the original story couldn't continue writing this so I did. Won't be as good as the author wrote it or will be going as the author planned it to be.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Sherlock is the smart one [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2115597
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter Three

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoctorRainyStardusttheThird (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Every Stumble and Each Misfire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15379722) by [DoctorRainyStardusttheThird (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/DoctorRainyStardusttheThird). 



> This is not a re-write. I repeat, this is NOT a re-write. This is a continuation.
> 
> This is the link to the original story; 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/15379722/chapters/35690586

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Aftermath of the groups little talk.

"How could you do that to him?" John managed to stumble out. "He was Twelve, how could you do that?"

The room was filled with mostly silence as Mycroft's gaze did not leave his hands.

"I was young." He whispered softly. "I didn't understand the consequences."

"He was your _brother. _" John spat, wincing at his own tone. His eyes did not leave Mycroft.__

__"He is my brother." Mycroft said, voice steadying. "I was foolish."_ _

__"I don't think that exactly cuts it." John stated, his voice getting increasingly shakier._ _

An awkward silence set over the room, tension still chaotic in the air.

Anderson and Donovan looked horrified, they hadn't been prepared to hear anything of that sort. Sherlock Holmes was the _machine, _the high functioning, addict sociopathic freak that they had envied for his undeserved and easy fame. The one you wouldn't think twice about insulting because 'he doesn't care anyway.' Was that really Sherlock?__

John was furious, upset, angry, and just a little hurt that Sherlock hadn't mentioned any of it. Had Mycroft really trapped his brother, and John's best friend, in a _mental facility _because he could have been 'usefull' to the government? Had Sherlock really been imprisoned against his will for almost four years?__

__

__Said genius shifted in the background, making John's head snap up towards his friend._ _

__

How did this make any sense? What about all the _Im the smart one _teasing?__

"There's no use telling you to keep this quiet from Sherlock." Mycroft said, eyes finally leaving his hands so he could look up at the group. "He'd know immediately anyway. Need I remind you that not a _word _of this situation leaves this room?"__

___"Of course." Anderson nodded frantically. Though he'd only known the Holmes brother for about half an hour, he could already tell he did not want to mess with him._ _ _

"Good, because you have all signed non-disclosure agreements along with other forms including the crimes of selling government secrets and treason added onto your sentence if a word gets out." Mycroft stated simply, voice returning to somewhat normal.

"Right. Well, what do we do now?" John asked, eyes looking back at Sherlock, at his best friend.

"Now would be a good time for any questions you have." Mycroft asked tiredly. His eyes were slightly foggy, probably lost on thought or guilt. 

_good_

__"If he's smarter than you, then how come you're always beating him at 'deductions' and such?" Lestrade asked, his voice strained and hoarse.__

 _ _"It's a simple repression trick." Mycroft mumbled, eyes diverting from the group once again as he twirled his umbrella. "If he kept use of his usual perception skills, he'd quickly overload and panic in such a complex environment. He simply dulls-down his senses. It's one of the reasons he turns to drugs; they help."_ _

"Oh god, Sherlock." John choked out. Mycroft avoided his gaze once again, clouding himself with guilt.

"How- what?" Anderson asked. "You mean, his name isn't even Sherlock?"

"No." Mycroft sighed. "His name is not Sherlock, and he's three years younger than you think."

"Oh." Anderson said, falling silent.

"And you- you just left him there? For three years?" Lestrade asked.

Mycroft adopted his ashamed expression again, looking everywhere but at the group.

"Yes." He admitted softly. You could almost here the regret in his voice. "I did."

"And you knew?" John croaked. "You knew what they where doing?"

"Not exactly." Mycroft shook his head, starting to twirl his umbrella again. "I didn't know exactly what they where doing in their _tests. _I just know that they where testing things. IQ, deductive reasoning, other, less-moral things." He admitted slowly, voice trailing off near the end.__

__"This is sick." Donovan finally said, shudder obvious in her voice. "Your sick."_ _

"It's politics-" 

" _ITS NOT BLOODY POLITICS! _" John shouted, tears pricking at his eyes. He wanted to scream and shout at this man, this person who had valued his own political stand point over his brother.__

"No." Mycroft said shakily, surprised from his outburst or just in the verge of years John couldn't tell. "No, it's not. I haven't forgotten what I've done, John."

"How could you- to your _brother, _to _sherlock! _" John's voice sounded more desperate then loud, faltering as he sat back down.____

"I don't know." Mycroft sighed, gaze wandering over to his wayward brother on the hospital bed. "I have no idea what I was thinking."

"And, you did this because he could have been _helpful!? _" Lestrade asked, venom creeping into his voice at the end.__

__"I did." Mycroft admitted._ _

__Silence fell over the room as two people experienced a newfound hatred for The British Government._ _

__"Does this happen often?" Sally asked. Mycroft's head snapped back to the group, eyes finally focusing properly._ _

__"Does what happen often?" He asked, shaking his head slightly._ _

__"The hallucinations, the flashbacks." Sally stated quickly._ _

__"Oh, no. This hasn't happened in over, what was it, three years now?" Mycroft pondered for a second._ _

__"That's why you get him out of do many situations?" Anderson questioned, shakkng his head._ _

__"Yes." Mycroft almost growled. "He doesn't deserve any more hatred."_ _

__Donovan and Anderson almost quivered under the man's gaze, the two still white as sheets._ _

"And then... Serbia? Afghanistan? You did _nothing _to help him!?" John asked, narrowing his eyes at the Holmes infront of him.__

__"There was much I could do." Mycroft tried to explain. There hadn't been much Sherlock had let him do, and even the things he had let him do weren't many things he could do with the government restrictions. Even less he could do without looking suspicious. He had had to leave his little brother at the mercy of fate once again._ _

"There must have been _something! _" John spat at him once again, just hating the eldest Holmes brother the longer he sat there.__

__"I did everything I could." Mycroft sighed softly, voice barely more than a whisper. "I made sure of that at least."_ _

__"Maybe you hadn't done enough?" John breathed out sarcastically. "You put him through all of that and you couldn't even-" he cut himself off, slumping down his chair once again._ _

__"Jesus christ." Greg muttered, pursuing his lips. "Once, Sherlock refused to take a case at a hospital. It was his kind of case, to. Mass murder, no clues but not a suicide, and rumored immoral medical experiments. Was this why- was that why he refused the case?"_ _

__Mycroft turned away, nodding._ _

__"I'm afraid so."_ _

__"But- but that doesn't make any _sense! _" John whispered. "Sherlocks- Sherlock's _Sherlock! _He stops for nothing, he knows things people don't, he acts like he hates that stupid hat yet he wears the damn thing anyway, and- and-"_____ _

John faltered, a sudden urge to bash his head in overtaking him.

The mood grew solemn again.


	2. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SHERLY!

It took two more minutes of silence for something to break it.

And that thing was Sherlock.

"Jesus christ, has someone died?" 

The geniuses voice broke the silence, and the man came into view.

"Sherlock!" John cried, running to his best friends side.

Sherlock winced in surprise, is features showing brief confusion and then acceptance of the hug John had wrapped him in.

Of course, he immediately afterwards glared at Mycroft.

' _You told them, you bastard! _' Sherlock mouthed as his brother shrugged helplessly.__

__Donovan and Anderson made a swift exit._ _

__Lestrade stood up and crossed the room to meet his friend._ _

__"You've been out for forty minutes." Lestrade commented. " _Mycroft _said it'd be longer."___ _

____"Well he's wrong about a lot of things." Sherlock smiled._ _ _ _

A dry laugh echoed the room.

"He is." John nodded.

Sherlock felt like he wanted to die, again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" John finally asked, facing Sherlock.

The man looked up in surprise.

"I just didn't find it something I wished to talk about." Sherlock replied slowly.

"We could've helped you." John whispered. 

"It's complicated." Sherlock sighed. "What's Mycroft told you?"

Lestrade and John looked at each other, and then back at there friend.

"He told us about Cal, the facility, the year you where missing, Serbia, and Afghanistan." John answered, still not taking his eyes off of Sherlock.

"I see." Sherlock muttered softly, the way he always did when he was thinking.

"Is there anything else we should know?' John asked, raising his eyebrow.

"No, I think that's it." Sherlock pondered. "Now, can anybody tell me what in the hell happened?"

John sighed.

"We'll talk about this later."

It took Sherlock two weeks to get out of the hospital--- much to his disagreement ---but his finally made it back to Bakers Street. 

Mycroft had vanished almost immediately after Sherlock had woken up, giving his brother a quick goodbye on the way out.

"Sherlock." John said, guiding his roommate to the sofa.

"John?" Sherlock asked in response, acting as if he didn't know what was already coming.

"Why didn't you _tell _me?" He stressed, voice strained.__

__"I didn't want you to think ill of me." Sherlock put it simply, eyes finally meeting John's._ _

__"I wouldn't." John murmured. "You know I wouldn't."_ _

__"I dont know that, John." Sherlock admitted, gaze averting to the wall._ _

"You should've. Have we done something to show you we wouldn't have we-" John was cut off.

"I don't know! I spent almost four years in some _stupid _mental facility, one year in the alleyways if the world high out of my mind, and my entire childhood alone! I have _no. idea. _what the signs are!" Sherlock finally admitted, tears threatening to fall.____

The silence that fell over the two was deafening.

"Oh, _Sherlock. _" John whispered, grabbing one if his friends hands. "Of course we won't think badly of you."__

__A flicker of a smile passed over Sherlock's face._ _

__"Thank you, John."_ _

"Of course." John smiled, helping Sherlock up again. "You want tea?"

"Of course I want tea! Who do you take me for!?" Sherlock half-joked.

"Alright then." John sat Sherlock down onto his chair. "I'll go make us tea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is such a short chapter!


	3. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are two rules on ao3. Read the tags, and heed the tags.
> 
> I meant it when I said he's aneroxic.

Ever since the hospital, John had been picking up on hints. Hints that he'd never have picked up if he hadn't known about Sherlocks... concerning past.

For one, he rarely ate.

Well of course, that's Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock never eats on cases. It slows him down.

But John was now realizing that Sherlock barely ate even when there wasn't a case going on. So John started to keep track of the times he saw Sherlock eating.

Once on Tuesday, and once on Friday.

It varied, but he averaged at eating two-to-four times a week. They where usually small meals, and sometimes only consisted of tea and a packet of biscuits.

John knew there was something up with Sherlock and his more than unhealthy habits, and now he was sure it was an eating disorder. He also had a creeping suspicion that it had been caused by Sherlock's stay in Sherrinford, maybe a result of irregular meal times or immoral experimentation.

Sherlock had been influencing him to much.

Did Mycroft know anything of this?

Maybe he did, and that could be important information. But if he didn't, John wasn't sure he wanted the man's help. Sherlock may have forgiven his brother, but John hadn't. He was pretty sure Lestrade hadn't either, and Donovan and Anderson booked it in the opposite direction if they even saw the British Government coming remotely near to them.

Either way, he was going to have to talk to Mycroft, wether he liked it or not.

So that's why John was standing infront of Mycroft's office door not ten minutes later.

' _here goes nothing _' John gritted his teeth, entering the room.__

__"John. I was expecting you." Mycroft sighed, lifting his head from his computer._ _

__"I'm sure you where. Now I have some questions for you." John said, wanting to skip as many pleasantries as he could._ _

__"Regarding Sherlock, I presume?" Mycroft asked tiredly._ _

__"Obviously." John paused. "Do you know what the schedule was, in Sherrinford?"_ _

__"The schedule?" Mycroft exclaimed in surprise._ _

__"The schedule." John confirmed. "Times for eating, sleeping, whatever _experiments, _that where being held."___ _

Mycroft thought for a second.

"No, I don't." The man finally admitted. "I can get them, though. I'll send them over. There'll be none of his original information on it, though. You won't see his old name." 

"Thank you. Now, has Sherlock ever shown signs for any eating disorders?" John asked.

"Eating dis- I don't know, we never got him tested for any." Mycroft said, instantly confirming John's fear.

"Thank you for your time." John deadpanned, immediately leaving Mycroft's office in the dust.

He had as much information as he needed.

By the time he was back in 221B, the files where already downloaded onto his computer. A courtesy of the British Government, he presumed.

John carefully sifted through the files, the files that made up every day of Sherlock's imprisonment.

It was completely immoral.

Some of the _titles _of the experiments alone could probably already get them over a decade in prison, and he couldn't even bring himself to read the descriptions of them.__

__Eating times sometimes didn't even feature on the schedule, though they did regularly in multiple other 'guests' at the facility. They where usually thrown in the middle of some most likely torturous experiment, maybe five minutes. It was awful._ _

__The actually scheduled times for ending and starting a day was from 6:15pm to 6:15am, but the notes classified that experiments did run overtime quite a lot._ _

__And knowing Sherlock, it was probably more like 3:00am to 5:30am._ _

__It was sickening, all of it._ _

__John finally mustered up the courage to click on a description._ _

_Experiment 357 Name; Sherlock Holmes Description; Find out how he perceives emotions, a continuing project. Outcome; Indecisive. Subject could not identify pain from anger or sadness; testing unresponsive until further notice. ___

__It was sick. It was sick, it was sick, it was sick._ _

Forcing someone into an emotionally traumatic and painful situation for an experiment? 

...could Sherlock really not tell the difference between pain and anger?

No, that wasn't important.

"John? What're you doing?" He heard a (rather sleepy) consulting detective ask from the door way.

John's head shot up in surprise.

"Oh, Sherlock. It's just you." John smiled, using his hand to close the tab. "Just keeping up on the news."

Sherlock only hummed in response, falling onto the couch rather dramatically.

"Lestrade says no cases for another _three days _, so I'm bored now." He huffed, looking at John upside-down. John couldn't suppress his laughter.__

__"When are you not bored?" He shook his head, then sighed. "What kind of bored is it? On a scale of one-to-shoot-the-wall?"_ _

__"Hmmmm, four." Sherlock closed his eyes before responding._ _

"Alright then." John said. "Do you want to get donuts?"

"Not hungry." Sherlock answered. John but his lip.

"You last ate on Tuesday, Sherlock." John whispered. "You need to eat more." 

Sherlock felt kind of guilty.

"Well, we can go down there if you want." Sherlock caved, grabbing his coat.

John smiled, and got up to follow his roommate down the stairs.

"Uh uh uhhhh!" John smirked, stopping Sherlock. "Forgetting something?" He asked, holding the hat out to him.

Sherlock groaned.

"You know I hate that thing." The detective grumbled, smiling when he was facing away from the doctor, putting the hat on.

"Your sherlock holmes." John responded. " _You wear the damn hat. _"__

Sherlock simply laughed and nodded in response.

"Fair enough."

The two then headed out and tried to take a swift right into the cafe.

"Mr Holmes! Mr Watson!" One reporter called.

"Where have you been for the past four weeks?"

"Was it true you where kidnapped?"

"Are you really part of a gang?"

' _We're just trying to enjoy our afternoon _' John thought in annoyance. Nonetheless, they shoved through the crowd and finally entered the Cafe.__

__"That was interesting." Sherlock commented._ _

__"Hmm. What are you going to have?" John asked, looking up from his phone quickly._ _

__"Oh, I don't known a coffee, maybe." Sherlock muttered absentmindedly._ _

"As in food-wise?" John asked again.

"Food-wise? Uh, I didn't really plan on getting anything." Sherlock said, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.

"Well atleast get something!" John sighed exasperatly.

"Alright, alright." Sherlock agreed. "I'll just get a donut, then."

"Alright, I'll get a sandwich." John smiled.

That was something, at the very least.


	4. Chapter Six

Sherlock has never been one to share things. Even when he was a somewhat naive child he would barely ever share things. He'd only told the Holmes family he had started learning the violin three months after he had actually started taking lessons.

So honestly? Mycroft should have seen this coming.

"What do you _mean _Sherlock has anorexia?" Mycroft voiced, scared for his brothers well-being. Even if he acted like .__

__"We mean you brother has been medically diagnosed with aneroxia nervousia, Mr. Holmes." Dr. Stenton repeated, specifying the scientific term. Something professionals did, Mycroft had noticed._ _

"How long do you think he's had this disorder?" Mycroft asked. Anyone who didn't know him would've thought the man was unfazed or uninterested, but John knew better.

"Well, it's unclear. He refuses to answer any questions about it, but his state suggests two years or more, maybe since childhood." Dr. Stenton explained.

"I see." Mycroft mumbled, steepling his fingers like Sherlock always did. He was thinking, thinking about all the signs. There were so many.

"Thank you, doctor Stenton. Your time is greatly appreciated." John thanked the doctor. "...If we could have a moment alone?" 

"Oh, yes, of course." Dr. Stenton nodded, turning to enter his office.

"Thank you again, doctor."

"No problem, Mr. Watson."

The silence was deafening.

"You didn't know."

"No." Mycroft shook his head. "I didn't. I should've."

"Yes, you should've." John agreed. "...But it's not _entirely _your fault."__

__Mycroft raised an eyebrow in surprise._ _

"What I am saying, is that I don't forgive you yet, even if Sherlock has, but if he's going to get better we need to help him together." John explained. "You, me, Lestrade."

Mycroft thought about it for a moment before nodding slowly.

"I suppose that's true." He murmured. "I suppose so."

"Good. Now, how do we tell him to suck it up and eat food without him getting all argumentative about it?" John asked, shaking his head.

"I'll handle that. My brother is rather... defensive." Mycroft answered, wording his sentences carefully, as is Sherlock could hear him.

"I'll agree with you there." John snorted. Sherlock never admitted to any fault if he could help it, and he almost always could. "Should we...?"

"Oh, yes, of course." Mycroft nodded at John's prompting, going to find sherlock's hospital room. Mycroft might as well reserve one for him at this rate, he'd gotten shot twice that year alone.

“Sherlock?” John called, opening the door.

“ _John _, finally. Tell these doctors there wrong. I’m fine.” Sherlock huffed. John groaned, rubbing his eyes.__

__“Sherlock-“ John paused. God, how did he start this conversation. “The doctors aren’t- the doctors aren’t _wrong _, Sherlock.”___ _

That probably wasn't the best thing to say.

"Well- I- they aren't- no!" Sherlock futilely protested. "I do _not _have an eating disorder!"__

__Oh, how did they get into this position?_ _

__He supposed it had started when Sherlock had had trouble deducing things._ _

__***_ _

__Sherlock was, as always, being a pain._ _

__John had gotten back from his date, and had been waiting for Sherlock's snide comment or deduction on his date's status._ _

__She'd grabbed his wallet and run, if course._ _

__Not that it matters; he wasn't serious in the first place. He never was, not with anyone but Sherlock._ _

Never with anyone but Sherlock.

Not that it'd ever matter, of course. John was about eighty-seven percent sure Sherlock was aromantic, and he was sure that he was asexual at the least.

So it wouldn't matter anyway. Never.

But that wasn't what was bothering John at that moment. It was the fact that Sherlock hadn't spoken a word since John had entered the apartment.

_that _was unusual. And not in a good way. Sherlock Holmes rarely ever held back with his often cold comments, backhanded compliments, or crude words, so it concerned John that he was not even giving him a look that suggested he knew anything of John's date.__

__And John would be damned if he believed that Sherlock had finally stopped looking into his private life. It's not like the man could even help it._ _

__Which meant something was wrong with his deductions._ _

__Or perhaps John was overreacting?_ _

__Either way, John Watson wanted to know._ _

__So know he would._ _

__"No snide comments about my choice of partner?" The doctor asked, trying to be as discreet as possible._ _

"Snide- is there a reason- your back early." Sherlock stumbled over his words, having a lot of trouble staying conscious as it was.

that was not good. That was not good at all.

"Sherlock, are you feeling alright?" John asked carefully.

"Alright? Yes, fine."

"Then you'd have noticed I'm missing my wallet."

Sherlock blinked at him, then his eyes darted down to John's pocket and then back to the book he was reading.

"Ah, yes." He mumbled guiltily.

"Sherlock? Are you feeling okay?" John repeated anxiously.

"Fine, fine. Just tired, that's all." The genius answered again, lying through his teeth.

"Well, that's a downright lie." John muttered under his breath. "Sherlock, your _never _tired. We both know that." _god, he's really off his game. _____

____"Im fine John. Drop it."_ _ _ _

____John probably shouldn't have dropped it._ _ _ _

***

John had then found him passed out on the floor about three hours later.

So yeah, maybe he shouldn't have dropped it.

Now John had to convince a very stubborn Sherlock Holmes who he _defeinetly was not in love with _to eat more because he was going to die if he kept his so-called 'Harmless Habit' up.__

__He was not in the best situation, John would admit._ _

"John, its very obvious that I do not have said medical problems. I simply eat less than the usual person." Sherlock tried to reason.

"Yes, and that's unhealthy. Now, Sherlock Bloody Holmes, you are going to eat something, if it's the last thing I ever get you to do."

***

Sherlock didn't know _how _he had gotten himself into this mess. He'd just tried to make sure John didn't worry about him so, and now he was eating pasta in the comforts of 221B's kitchen.__

__And he was annoyed because John had thrown away his experiment._ _

__But it was fine. _He _was fine. He didn't have anorexia, everyone was just exaggerating. He just ate less than the usual person, because 'The usual person' ate more than they needed to. His body was transport, after all. It didn't matter. Even if he was hungry.___ _

____"This is pointless-"_ _ _ _

____"Not. A. Word." John said. Sherlock sighed and just ate more of the spaghetti. John really didn't have to worry so. He was alright. He didn't deserve the man's attention anyway, he was a sociopath. Someone else would make a much better partner for John then Sherlock ever would, someone else would make him happier. Someone else would be actually _worthy _of Johns attention, unlike himself.___ _ _ _

Someone else. Someone who wasn't him.

That hurt SHerlock.

Much more than he'd ever admit.

Much, much more.


	5. SO THIS IS GOING IN HAITUS-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick haitus

This story will be on haitus. Hopefully I'll be able to start it up again by March. April is the latest I'll be continuing this, so stay tuned!

Thanks for 300+ reads, you guys!

**Author's Note:**

> That was awful, wasn't it?
> 
> My first sherlock fanfic, hope it was mediocre at least!


End file.
